Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1887-04-22

She smiled, with the old CLEAN of fun in
her eyes.
II am reporting the Psycho-p hysikethico-
logical institute for The Morning Herald"
Don't you think you arc little bit crazy7-
"Tm not sure. But if | he /, which think
Lbe, then I'm sure some of the members Of
that institution are"
"What do they do'"
"Oh, they go incoming about over tho uni
versal everywhere and grabble after the i'll
finite"
He smiled with amusement. "Can you I'M
derstand them" he said.
swell, sometimes get tangled up between
the actually of the present and the reality of
the possible. But that's all joke compared
to the fundamental archetypes of sociology
That's what really floors mo, you know.
They just pour out their souls upon the funda-
mental archctypes of sociology"
"Well, don't stop em.'
III don't intend to. But l would like to
choke Off their blessed bosh, now and then, if
l could The fun of it is, they fancy they
understand one another If you outside, vox
populi, don't understand, then so much the
worse for you!"
He laughed again, but said nothing. 1t
was joy and perfect peace only to be near
|
lief from embarrassment for her to run on.
She asked him:
do you mean to say you are not here to
attend the Psycho-phys ARCHAEOLOGICAL insti-
tutel"
| He seemed a little confused.
mo, no." he said 81 am only here for
two days, on private business. Let me see
the report you make, Shirley; how long is
| it9"
She smiled merriy and held up the bundle
of paper she had covered. "How long is it?
All day long"
He would not talk Of himself He only said
he had been in tho west, and had been busy
all these years.
"Tell me what has happened in Lnwood,"
he said. 81 have not heard a word from it
since left l thought you would have been
married long ago, Shirley"
| She looked at him little reproachfully;
then suddenly, as the thought of all she had
lost since he left her came back a shadow of
grief and pain cameover her bright sweet
face She told him of her fathers terrible
death, of tho loss of her fortune, of how she
was in his old place as teacher.
l write for newspapers, too" she said,
Frightening again. IL condense solemn infor-
nation from agricultural reports for the read
ers of The Morning Herald. l can tell you
to dot, too, what effect the new dog tax
law is going to have on the politics of the
state"
But why do you not write your poem?"
She flushed slightly. "Mother is an in
valid" she said. ave need so many things
l must do all can to get money II have
so much to look after 1t seems as though
never get time to commence my poem. But
hp x-a n eriu
| think that"
| Her voice quivered little
The master read and perceived.
II see it ALL" he said sadly. you are
father and mother and bread winner to them
all. | never looked for this for YOU Ny dear
girl my poor Shirley"
He stroied her hair softly, and with in
| finite tenderness.
Mr.. Morrison fingered on from day to dav.
He seemed not to be able to break the light
! chains that held him there Yet he appeared
restless and ill at ease. He spoke of going
from day to day, though he did not go. He
was reserved, and kept apart from the rest.
But he lowered about Shirley always, not
oppressivey, but just enough. He wrote half
her reports for her. Ho had tho fino graceful
tact, the polished ease of manner of one who
knows just what to do in tho right place. He
knew and. met her every little wish, almost
before it was formed. He never seemed to
be looking for her. but ever his eyes sought
hers with messages of courage and sympathy.
Shirley was in a paradise. 1t was so
strangely sweet to her, the lonely girl, to find
somebody who thought she needed help and
sympathy. 1t is the doom of those who
spend their lives caring for othors, that none
ever fancy they themselves need to be taken
care of.
Little things are much to a woman, very
much.
1t was the first time since her father died
that anybody had taken a thought of Shirley's
happiness and comfort. In six years it had
occurred to nobody that she had any little
wants or wishes of her own Therefore was
this human sympathy unspeakably sweet to
her.
The world shaking deliberations of the
Psycho-p hysikethicologians drew to a close,
The last afternoon these phosphoric intellects
so far forgot their mission rs to have a pic
mic. One bushes to record it. They amused
themselves. Many went on boat excursions
over the lake.
shirley" said Mr.. Morrison, 81 want Won
to come with me this evening. This is the
last. Wear your white dress, too. and put a
rose in your hair. That is how | wish to re-
member you. am to have you all to N.Y.
self this evening, mind"
He led her to the beach and seated her in a
little slif. He took the oars himself. With
few powerful strokes they shot out into the
moonlit lake.
Il have found place along the lake that |
want to show you," he said. IL think it will
please you"
In half an hour he tied the boat at the shore
in the deep hollow of n tiny crescent bay. A
cluster of beautiful trees grew there. Near
by brook tumbled over cliff, and then
gathered itself up and went on again into the
lake. The summer wind murmured low
among the trees. Tho miniature waterfall
murmured back in music. The drops of
water made II million white lights in the
moonbeams. All was cool and restful.
Shirley clasped her hands with delight
allow lovely How lovely this isl"
II thought you would like it," said the mas
ter, quietly.
All that afternoon they had been near each
other. In company with two or three If tho